


DO RE MI (bitch, I'm a drop of golden sun)

by ElisAttack



Series: My Crack Fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor D/S Undertones, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 05:30:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3598173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisAttack/pseuds/ElisAttack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles seductively toes off his shoes when suddenly the dulcet tones of Julie Andrews croons through the speakers.</p><p>  <em>Let's start at the very beginning...</em></p><p>Stiles trips on a shoe lace and falls on his face.</p><p>Or the one where Stiles performs a strip tease for Derek even after his iPod shuffles to a very unconventional song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DO RE MI (bitch, I'm a drop of golden sun)

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

Stiles is nothing if not thorough. 

He's had this afternoon planned out for months, and while he can blame his ADHD on paper, his fondness for planning things out on the dot is just something innate.

Which is why it's completely and utterly baffling when a few cords of an acoustic guitar start to play instead of the electronic bass of _Closer_.  But then he realizes, that shit, he forgot to turn off the shuffle function.  However, it's too late to do anything about the song.  The dock is across the room, and changing it would ruin the groove Stiles has got going on.   

He's bent over at the waist, seductively tugging the laces loose on his converse, swinging his hips.  Stiles knows it gets Derek hot, he's seen him staring unabashedly after Stiles comes home following a long drive back from the community college in Redding.  Long fingers, tugging and pulling.  Don't ask Stiles why, but somehow Derek likes it.

Speaking of Derek.  He hasn't yet noticed the song change, he's so entranced, staring at Stiles' movements, giving him a total self esteem boost, something he needs, considering he's just about to perform a strip tease.  Stiles doesn't recognize the music, and just hopes it isn't anything ridiculous.  He has some weird shit on his iPod.  Stuff like the Tuvan throat singing piece he needed for a ritual to get rid some murderous faeries the week before.  The pack hated it, but it made the faeries heads explode, so they put up with a little pain.    

Point is, he has an iPod Classic.  So with 160 GB at his disposal, he never deletes anything.  But an hour long concerto with a lot of gasping and rattling is not friendly to sexy times.

Stiles grinds his ass in the air, hopefully garnering Derek's complete and utter attention.  It seems to work as the werewolf's hands are fisted in the brocade of the antique armchair sitting beside their bed.  When Stiles has the laces loose he seductively toes off the converse, pulling his socks off in the same movement.

Suddenly the dulcet tones of Julie Andrews croons through the speakers.

_Let's start at the very beginning..._

Stiles trips on a shoe lace and falls on his face. 

"Stiles, shit."  Derek says, looking like he wants to laugh.  Stiles frowns, comedy is not why they are here today.

He pops right up again,  "I'm fine.  Now shush."  Stiles is like a rubber ball, drop him on the ground, and he'll bounce right back.

He tries to ignore Julie Andrews ruining what could potentially make for a very sexy afternoon alone with his boyfriend.  Stiles snaps open the button of his jeans, not the skinny ones which take too much flailing to remove on a good day, even if they do make his ass look absolutely edible if he does say so himself.

Stiles sends Derek a sultry look under his lashes.  Derek's eyes flash red in return, and _fuck_ , that's hot.  Stiles can feel himself stiffening, but he tamps down the urge to touch himself, instead slowly lifting up his red shirt, revealing the trail of dark hair beneath his belly button.  Derek leans closer in interest, nose flared as he undoubtedly sniffs Stiles' arousal. 

When, five minutes before, Stiles pushed Derek down in the armchair, he promised him a very long, very rewarding blowjob if Derek could manage to keep his grimy paws off his dick, and off of Stiles. 

Stiles hopes Derek keeps that promise.

He slinks over, swinging his hips, avoiding any tripping hazards.  Stiles purposely moved the rug out of the way for this specific purpose.  He stops a foot away from Derek, who looks up at him with hazy, lustful eyes.  "Hey."  Derek's smile crooks.

"Hi back, big boy."  Stiles grins, pulling his shirt off his head, thankfully it doesn't catch on his chin.  Small blessings.  Derek looks like he wants to bite and chew on him, if the way his exploded pupils are anything to go by.  "You going to keep your hands on those arm rests?"

Derek nods, swallowing, his throat bobbing.

And then Julie Andrews fucks it up.

_Doe, a deer, a female deer..._

Derek cracks a short smile, before carefully schooling his expression back to the one he had before, but with the ghost of humour turning up the corner of his mouth.

Oh, Julie Andrews, _it is so on_.

_Ray, a drop of golden sun..._

Stiles drags his long fingers  across his left pec, scratching over and pebbling a nipple, leaving red marks along the way.  The smile vanishes off of Derek's face.

_Me, a name I call myself..._

The hand dips even lower, running through his happy trail, fingers toying with the zipper of his pants, pulling it down ever so slightly just so Derek can see that the jeans are the only thing separating his dick from the world.  Derek's claws pop out, embedding deep into the armchair.

_Far, a long, long way to run..._

Abruptly, Stiles lets go of the zipper, and Derek takes a deep breath like he's been holding it all this time.  Stiles dips two fingers in his mouth instead, and Derek's eyes widen as Stiles sucks.  Pulling them out glistening with spit, he tips back his neck, running fingers down, over his delicate collarbones: Derek's favourite place to leave hickeys.

_Sew, a needle pulling thread..._

The glistening fingers trace back over the red marks on his chest, over his sensitive nipple, and again through his happy trail, this time disappearing into his pants with the rest of his right hand.  Derek's eyes flash, and looks like he's just about ready to jump out of the chair, but Stiles fixes him with a look, implying a quick end to sexy times if Derek moves.  He settles back down, but his eyes remain a burning red, fixated on Stiles' hand in his pants.

_La, a note to follow so..._

Stiles palms his dick.  The pants, too tight to do anything more than that, he tips his head back in pleasure.  Derek growls a deep rumbling noise Stiles can feel in his _bones_.  "Stiles..."

_Tea, a drink with jam and bread..._

"Not yet, sourwolf.  Patience"  Stiles winks pulling his hand out of his pants.  Derek's nose flares at the unmistakable scent of pre come.

_And that will bring us back to do, oh, oh, oh._

Abruptly, Stiles unzips the rest of the way and pulls down his pants.  "Fuck."  Derek starts, when Stiles' cock slaps up to his belly smearing pre come in his happy trail.  Stiles ungracefully steps out of his pants, tossing them aside.

_DOE!_

Stiles nearly falls on his ass at the unexpected high-pitched voice of Gretl Von Trapp shouting excitedly.

Derek growls, glaring at Stiles.  "Fucking hell.  Turn it off."  Stiles meeps, and runs over to the speaker choosing to pull the plug out of its outlet, instead of fumbling his discontinued Classic with shaking hands. 

Stiles stays crouched naked in front of the outlet, his face burning in embarrassment, his dick flagged.  Nothing like the shrill voice of a five year old to permanently shut down sexy times.      

Stiles hears Derek huff, but he stays tucked in the corner, waiting for his blush to go down.  The armchair creaks, and suddenly Stiles feels a warm hand grip his shoulder, chasing away any developing goose bumps.  Stiles had turned up the air conditioning expecting things to get more active later on, but as it turns out, the universe not favouring him today.

"Stiles."  Derek says.  "C'mon."

"Crap."  Stiles turns around, looking at Derek out of the corner of his eye.  He's wearing a fond smile, and it makes Stiles' heart skip a beat.  Derek frowns.

"Are you alright?"  Derek asks, fingers flitting from his shoulder to throat, before running down his arm, gripping it to pull Stiles to his feet.

"Yeah."  Stiles squeaks and he clears his throat, turning his face away, trying to hide his blush.  "Just embarrassed is all."

Derek rolls his eyes.  "You're a klutz."

"Hey!"  Stiles frowns affronted.

Derek continues undeterred.  "And a danger to yourself."  He smiles, eyes crinkling.  "But I can tell you with absolute sincerity that I hate The Sound of Music."

"Huh?"

"So it's saying something, that you managed to distract me away from Andrews' god awful crooning for the minutes before I put an end to it."  Derek's brow furrows.  "Why would you choose this song?  It's not exactly an ideal choice for what you were going for."

Stiles shrugs.  "I left shuffle on accidentally and it decided to have a sense of humor."

"I'm not even going to ask why you have that on your iPod."

"It was my mom's favourite movie."

"Oh."  Derek visibly softens, and he pauses for a second, thinking.  "I could watch it with you sometime.  If you really want to?"  Derek offers, even though he grimaces like the thought pains him.

Stiles winces.  "Oh, god no.  Dad and I always vacated the house whenever Mom found it necessary to watch.  I just keep it on because, well, you know."  Stiles shrugs.

Derek cups his cheek.  "I know."  He presses a soft kiss to Stiles mouth, smiling against it.  "Now come on."  He slaps Stiles' ass with an audible smack.  "I know you planned this out, so finish it.  No music."

Stiles gapes as Derek strides back to the armchair collapsing back into it, fixing Stiles with a come hither look.  Stiles stumbles in his haste to get back to Derek, barely managing to keep to his feet.

He stares wide eyed at Derek's expectant face.  "Umm, where was I?"

"Let me give you a clue."  Derek grins.  "Your dick had _just_ made an appearance."  Derek's eyes slip down, and Stiles feels his cock valiantly stir at the attention.

"Right."  Stiles says, taking a deep breath, before he sits right in Derek's lap, his boyfriend still fully clothed in jeans and a henley.

Derek sighs as Stiles wiggles, situating himself _right_ where he needs to be.

"Mmm."  Stiles says, rolling his hips, and Derek's claws dig right into the already indented walnut.  "Yeah, I think this is about right.  Don't you?"  Stiles grins, gaining back some of his courage.

"Fuck.  Stiles."  Derek groans, struggling to hold himself still.  "You're not making this control thing easy."

"Good."  He whispers in Derek's ear, before biting down on the lobe.  Derek bucks and Stiles can feel just how interested Derek is in the proceedings.  Stiles laughs, getting up, and taking his weight off of Derek who whines in frustration.  "Ah, ah, ah."  He shakes a finger.  "What did I say?  Don't move, and you'll get a reward.  Good boys get _good_ rewards."  Stiles croons.

Derek growls and lifts his head back, exposing his neck.  Stiles takes the offer for what it is.  He leans over Derek in the vee of his legs.  Resting his hands on Derek's wrists, Stiles makes sure his cock nudges against the inside of Derek's thigh.  He bites into Derek's neck and feels the rumble of a satisfied groan beginning.  He sucks at the skin over the tight tendon into his mouth, aiming to bruise.  Stiles knows it'll fade away as soon as he removes his mouth, but the sounds Derek's making at his claiming are enough for Stiles to not care about the permanence of his handiwork.

"Stiles, please."

"Hmm, what's that?"  Stiles teasingly asks.

"Touch me."  Derek frustrates, spreading his legs further, making sure to nudge Stiles' dick, staring at him, his eyes heavily lidded.  "Please?"

It's the begging that forces Stiles to relent.  He sits back down in Derek's lap, just not on the bulge like before.  Resting on Derek's thighs, Stiles fumbles the fly of Derek's jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping with haste.  He reaches his hand in, and of course Derek's going commando.  These are his commando jeans after all, as in the only way they could ever fit Derek is if he wears nothing more than a thong underneath.  Something previously tried and tested with fucking awesome results.

Derek groans into his neck, when Stiles wraps a hand around his thick cock, hot breath ghosts along Stiles' skin, making him shiver.  Stiles brings up his right hand, running a finger along Derek's full lower lip.  Derek gets the message because he opens his mouth, allowing Stiles' fingers to dip into the wet heat.  Derek licks at Stiles' fingers, and he watches unabashedly as Derek's cheeks hollow, sucking.

Eventually Stiles pulls the wet digits out of Derek mouth, switching hands he grips Derek's dick tighter, spit lubricating his hand's movement up and down the length,.  Derek leans in for a kiss and Stiles gives it, groaning when Derek bites at his mouth, tugging on his lower lip.   

"Fuck."  Stiles laughs when Derek nudges his hand away from his dick, and grabs Stiles' ass pulling him closer.  He fists both their dicks in his large palm, spitting in his hand to avoid chaffing.  Stiles throws his head back when he feels the velvety smooth skin of Derek's cock against his, groaning as Derek tosses off the both of them.

He comes with Derek's human teeth buried in his neck, scraping his throat, and Derek follows him with a drawn out, strangled moan.

It's only when they're lying, half asleep collapsed on top of each other after moving the snoozing party to the bed, that Stiles realizes he didn't fulfill his part of the bargain.

"Shit.  I still owe you a blowjob."

Derek groans tiredly into his arm.  "Give me fifteen."

Stiles grins.


End file.
